iHate This Feeling
by Supreme Distraction
Summary: "Jealous?" Freddy had asked. If only he knew… It wasn't *Carly* that she was jealous of, but him. The thought of them together made her want to puke up blood only because of the sinking feeling in her stomach that accompanied the disappointed throb of her heart.
1. Disgust

**Distraction **is back with another feelsy edition of iCarly. Shall we?

**Disclaimer**: iCarly does not belong to me.

**-Disgust-**

So they were dating—that was a thing now. Disgusting.

And, yes, she had dated Freddie before, but that had been way way _way _different. She might have even actually liked the boy, if only just a little.

But that _like _was nothing compared to the all-encompassing butterfly-stomach-storm/heart-racing/palms-sweating combo she experienced every time she even looked at her best friend, Carly Shay.

Pathetic... And also disgusting.

Sam scowled, drumming her heels against the side of the armchair she was draped across and hunkering down against the pillows she had created a nest out of. Unfortunately, they smelled like Carly and that wasn't making things much better.

She had been sulking for the past hour, just mulling over how unfair the world was and how much she disliked herself for the feelings that whirled chaotically beneath her breast. Fortunately Spencer had gone out garbage-collecting, so she was alone in the Shays' apartment—because, despite hating seeing her best friends giggling and giving each other puppy-dog eyes, she hated being home with her mother even more.

But only by a small margin.

She was so lost in her moodiness that she missed the sound of someone approaching until a familiar voice asked, "Sam, why are you sitting here in the dark?"

She'd find a way to squish those stupid butterflies if it killed her. Their stupid antics were beginning to make her feel ill.

The blonde averted her gaze as the light overhead clicked on, growling, "Ugh. Carls, shut that off. I have a headache." A lie, of course. But Sam had begun to lose track of her lies by now—to her friends and most of all to herself.

"Oh, sorry." Darkness. Comforting darkness. But rather than retreat, the brunette's footsteps got closer and Sam felt a warm hand rest on her forehead. "Can I get you anything?"

So sweet… The older girl sighed, forgetting herself and leaning into the contact. Her best friend really did have a heart of gold.

'_Too bad that heart belongs to a chatty, nerdy little boy with a psychotic mother.'_

The thought jerked her back to reality and she tensed. "No. Thanks."

"Alright…" Was it just her or did the girl sound put out? When she peeked, Carly was smiling as charmingly as ever. "I'm going out with Freddie for a bit. Call me if you need anything."

Her… Him… Together? Her stomach flip-flopped and, suddenly, she wanted to punch something.

She curled her fingers into fists, but she denied herself the pleasure of letting it fly. "… Have fun."

Somehow, it felt as though she was giving away part of herself by letting Carly walk through that door and staring at the brunette's back as she left made something twist painfully within her gut. The moment Carly's footsteps faded and the front door closed, the blonde scrubbed at her eyes, removing any trace of the hopelessness that had gripped her heart like a giant, icy fist.

"Pull yourself together, idiot."

Disgusting.


	2. Jealousy

**-Jealousy-**

"If looks could kill…"

That was a curious statement given that she had been trying to avoid looking at the boy for the past week and a half.

Sam blinked, returning to the here and now to see Freddie giving her a wary look. "Huh?"

"You're glaring at me as though you want to do _that _to my throat." He pointed to her hands and it was then that she realized she was twisting knots in the paper napkin, slowly ripping it to bits. "What are you thinking about?"

'_Doing this to your throat.' _Rather than respond, the blonde sighed, burying her face in her arms.

"What's eating _her_?"

She thought he had been speaking to himself, but then a voice said, "I think she's sick, Freddie. Leave her alone."

There was a soft sound and she knew they were kissing.

"C'mon, Sam, you jealous or something?"

She could tell from the way the boy was jostling her that he was only teasing, but that didn't stop something ugly from bubbling up in her chest and she rose quickly to her feet. Her hands curled into fists and she scowled furiously at the couple; she opened her mouth, but no sound came out and she snapped it shut.

"Sam, where are you going?"

The blonde wasn't sure what reason came out of her mouth, but she needed to get out of here.

* * *

"There you are."

Well, damn. If Carly could find her in the _library_ of a places, Carly could find her anywhere.

"Is something wrong, Sam?"

"No."

"You're not a very good liar."

'_I've never needed to lie to you before.'_

When the blonde only sat in sullen silence, the girl sighed. "Well, if you ever want to talk…"

'_I won't.' _Despite the stubborn thought, Sam looked up. "Are you happy with him?"

"With Freddie?"

"No, with Prince James of England." She had meant to lighten the atmosphere a bit, but instead her tone was annoyed, impatient. Sam had _never_ been annoyed with Carly.

And Carly knew that. Dark eyes were shiny as she whispered, "I've never been happier."

The sound of retreating footsteps made the painful splintering sensation beneath her breast that much more poignant.

Sam growled, shoving an unfortunate passerby aside with her shoulder and snapping, "Problem?" when the lanky teenager gave a cry of protest.

He held his hands up in a placating gesture, eyes wide behind thick glasses, and she gave an exasperated _harrumph_ before continuing on past him.

Stupid Freddie and his stupid face all over _her _Carls—

Oh dear heavens… She really was jealous.

**-End Chapter-**


	3. Frustration

**-Frustration-**

So Freddy and Carly were a thing now.

Did that… Did that mean they were in love?

Would they get married someday—move into some huge house in the suburbs and leave Sam to rot all alone?

Had Freddy done what she had always secretly dreamed of and put his grubby paws all over the girl who made her heart beat fast and her mouth go dry?

Maybe if she stared hard enough, the ceiling would reveal the answers that plagued her tired brain.

…

…

…

Nope.

With a frustrated groan, Sam rolled over, grabbing her pillow and holding it over her head. If she was lucky, she'd suffocate in her sleep.

* * *

"Sam! Carly's not here right now, but she'll be right—"

"Actually, I'm kind of in a rush, Spencer," Sam said quickly, edging past the tall, lanky male. "I'm just going to run upstairs. I left my textbook and the teacher already wants to eat my face, soooo…"

He seemed disappointed, but she didn't give into the slight twinge of guilt as she took the lift to the second floor. The stupid, heavy collection of useless information was sitting on the floor of Carly's room—where it belonged.

As she stooped to retrieve it, the blonde paused, blue eyes going to the other side of the room where the brunette's bed sat, its surface covered with adorably plush animals.

Hm…

Before she realized what she was doing, Sam had crossed the room and she reached out, running her fingertips along the seams of the light purple comforter absentmindedly. She sat down, grabbing the nearest stuffed animal—an oversized lion with a goofy grin—and hugging it to her chest, burying her face in its mane.

It smelled like Carly.

For some reason, the thought brought tears to her eyes and she sighed, slouching.

Stupid Freddy. Stupid Carly. Stupid _her_.

* * *

_[Spencer said you came over earlier.]_

Same froze. Damnit… Why had she even answered her phone?

The blonde tilted her head, trapping the device between the side of her head and her shoulder. "Uh… Yeah. I had to get my textbook for English class—"

_[What's going on with you, Sam?]_

"Nothing," she lied. "Why?"

There was a silence on the other end of the line that made the young woman fidget anxiously.

Then, _[I miss you.]_

_Ba-bump._

She had to clear her throat. "That's weird, 'cause I haven't gone anywhere."

A barely audible sigh. _[Never mind. I'll see you at school tomorrow.]_

"Yeah… Okay. Night, Carls."

'_Click.'_

Sam stared down at her Pear phone for a moment, a heavy, ugly feeling careening around beneath her breast like a trapped bird. Finally, she released a snarl and threw the device across the room, simultaneously throwing herself down onto her bed and scowling up at the ceiling.

It had become all-too familiar of late.

"Sam?" came her mother's voice. "Is everything okay?"

The phone hit the wall with a satisfying _'thud_' and the screen flickered through a rainbow of colours before going black, the glass segmented by a spidering crack.

**-End Chapter-**


	4. Insignificant

**-Insignificant-**

Small, sorry, pointless.

Carly had Freddie, so why was Sam even around?

The blonde pushed her dinner around her plate, not really seeing it, and her mother put down her wineglass. "Is something wrong, Sam?"

"Nah."

A sigh. "Are you—?"

The pointless question was interrupted by the shrill ring of the cordless in the kitchen and the woman excused herself, pushing her chair back and going to retrieve it.

"It's for you, Sam. It's Carly."

Cue butterflies.

She waffled for a long moment, shuffling from one foot to another in a dance of indecision. Finally, she took the device from her confused mother, raising it to her ear and whispering, "Hello?"

_[Sam, where in the world are you?]_

"Huh?"

_[It's movie night. I'm not going to start without you.]_

_Ba-bump._

Right… Every Friday they watched horrible, lame movies, ragging on subpar acting and numerous plot holes and having a good laugh while they were at it. There was something about having good company that made even the worst of experiences worthwhile and Carly Shay happened to be the best.

"_I'll be right over."_

Carly had waited for her… And that made her feel a bit better, she supposed.

**Shay Residence…**

It was Carly who answered the door and the grin that split her face in half made the blonde do that stupid little skip-hop.

"You'll never guess what I found online." Dark eyes shone excitedly. "_Bacon-flavored _popcorn."

"I could kiss you." Even as she said it, she regretted the hyperbole and the painful truth behind it.

"I don't think Freddy would like that," Carly laughed, completely oblivious to the way her best friend's expression darkened. "Come on, let's do this.

…

The TV screen flickered, casting blue-white light over the room's contents: the girls were sitting side-by-side on the plaid sofa in front of it, their feet propped up on the polished surface of a coffee table.

Sam reached out for more popcorn, flinching when her hand brushed against Carly's. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

The movie progressed—some kind of love story about a sparkly-skinned, pretty teenager with some sort of superpowers and a girl with a bland personality who lacked them; she really hadn't been watching because her attention kept wandering back to her companion—and there was movement at the other end of the sofa that the blonde didn't pay any mind to until the rustling stopped and she tensed as Carly snuggled into her side, resting her head against the older girl's shoulder.

"Mm… Sleepy."

Suddenly, her throat was desert dry. "So go to sleep."

She was so close that Sam could feel her eyelashes flutter shut. "Do you mind?"

"…"

This was… so unfair. Because, while such a small, insignificant action meant nothing to the brunette, it meant the world to Sam.


	5. Guilt

**-Guilt-**

'_This sucks. I hate gym.'_

Still, she pushed herself, running faster—as though she could somehow outrun the insane scramble of thought bouncing around her mind like monkeys on crack. Her breath came out in short bursts and she focused on its ragged tempo, desperate for a way to escape.

"Sam!"

That voice… Sam ran even faster, dashing headlong passed several of her classmates and earning scattered applause when she became the first one to complete her laps—and in record time at that. Even then, she didn't stop, hurtling on as though the Devil himself was at her heels.

The ground sloped slightly, its grassy surface damp from the dew that had formed the night before, and she stumbled, tumbling to the ground and rolling downhill, where she landed in a heap, her ego bruised and her knees scraped.

"Are you okay?" No, not the Devil but Carly.

"I'll live."

"Come on, I'll take you to the nurse."

Millions of thoughts swirled around her head with the destructive force of a hurricane and—

_And suddenly she was kissing Carly friggin Shay…!_

—Sam could only blurt out an apology as she recoiled, her cheeks on fire.

"S-Sam?" Dark brown eyes were wide, pink lips parted slightly in shock. "Why did you—?"

Why hadn't she been able to run this quickly earlier?

* * *

Stupidstupidstupidstupidstupid—how was it possible for anyone to be this stupid?

Sam would have been impressed had she not been so darn upset with herself. More than anything, however, she felt… guilty. And Sam had pushed Gibby down a flight of stairs before without feeling much more than amusement as she had asked if he was okay from the top of said stairs. What Hell-dwelling demon had possessed her in that very moment and made her do something so terribly impossible to take back? Now she'd have to move to another city, find new friends, and become a circus clown (because there was no way she was starting school again) to support herself. It would be tough, not to mention lonely, but it was far better than the alternative.

There was no way she could face Carly now.

"You've gotten really good at running." The irony of the statement was lost in rationality-eradicating panic.

"I…" Wow, she really couldn't think of anything that didn't sound totally lame right now.

Dark eyes were intense, searching. "Why did you do it, Sam?"

There were a lot of stupid reasons. Which did she want to hear first? It had all started with a little girl on a playground that had refused to be bullied…

"Sam."

How long had her mind been wandering? "What."

"Answer me." Why did Carly sound close to tears? "Why would you—?"

"I dunno, Carls. I do stupid shit all the time. It was a mistake and it won't happen again." She tried a smile, knew the attempt wasn't worth beans. "We done here?"

"A mistake…" Right. That was all it _could _be. "Yeah… I'll see you later."

As the pretty brunette walked away, there was a sharp, intense sensation in the very center of Sam's chest and she struggled for a moment to catch her breath.

Was this what dying felt like?


	6. Loneliness

**-Loneliness-**

"Yo, Sam, what's up?" The greeting worked its way through the loitering teenagers and the blonde responded absentmindedly, her gaze on her best friends in the whole world. Could they still be considered that?

Her heart throbbed painfully—as though a giant, clawed hand was gripping the muscle, squeezing until it threatened to burst out of her chest.

What was she doing here? It was becoming more and more difficult to convince herself to go to school… And that had been a chore even before her stupid mistake.

"Aren't they just adorable together?"

Without thinking, she whirled and shoved the speaker—a pretty redhead whose green eyes were huge behind wide-rimmed glasses—to the ground, her hands curling into fists as she stood over the unfortunate teen.

"What did _I_ do?!"

But the blonde barely heard that incredulous question over the angry rush of blood in her ears. Carly was laughing, happiness that Sam hadn't seen in what felt like forever shining in her dark gaze. Happiness meant for Freddie. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to Freddie's cheek before heading into the building.

"S-Sam?"

Half a dozen gazes were locked on her, as though she was some dangerous, fanged beast, and it was then that the blonde realized that she was trembling.

"I'm out of here," Sam said at last, averting her gaze from the little gathering.

She took extra care to smash into Freddie—

"What the—Sam?"

—with her shoulder as she stormed past.

* * *

Sam shoved the door to the girls' bathroom open, fury boiling in her veins as she stomped across the damp floor and slammed her fist into a mirror, shattering the lower portion of it. Pain blossomed in her knuckles, but the sting was overwhelmed by the heat that coiled around her body, stirring and twisting like a snake trapped beneath her skin.

"Sam…?" It was that girl from before—the one she had shoved. What was her name again? Didn't matter. "Oh, my gosh, you're bleeding!"

Yeah, she was. Didn't matter.

"I'll go get the nurse—"

"Don't."

Human Beings, no matter how determined or how driven have needs. Who she got what she needed from didn't matter… right?

Before the girl—Juliet, right—could ask any more dumb questions, the blonde grabbed her by the front of her shirt and pulled her in close, sealing their lips together and earning a startled gasp; she took advantage of the opening it created and dipped her tongue into the other girl's oral cavern, dominating her easily.

That little moan of pleasure was music to her ears.

Their kiss escalated and Sam sank her fingers into long red locks, jerking the other girl's head back and biting down on the pale curve of her neck. She soothed the sting with a swirl of her tongue before retreating to eyeball her handy work: panting, dazed, likely-dripping red-head.

Nice.

It took her a full minute to gather herself. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay."

Juliet reached out, taking Sam's hand into hers and kissing each individual knuckle—the affectionate gesture completely unexpected given how the morning had gone.

And still she felt lonely.


	7. Panic

Enter Carly...

**-Panic-**

"Did you hear?" Freddie was normally an excitable young man, but right now he looked as though he was going to jitter himself to pieces.

"What are you talking about?"

"Sam's dating Juliet! I didn't even know she swung that way—did you?" Carly was silent for so long that he tilted his head questioningly, reaching out and cupping her cheek. "Carly?"

"Sorry… I… Just realized there's something I need to do," she responded haltingly, her brain hurtling a million miles an hour as she pushed her chair back and nearly tripped over her own legs.

"Oh, alright." He stood too, leaning in to kiss his girlfriend, but the brunette had already taken off at a half-walk, half-run. "That was weird…"

* * *

They hadn't spoken in over a week now—not since…

_/ Soft lips slightly chapped from the heat of the approaching summer pressed against hers and she swore her heart stopped entirely._

_Sam had… kissed her? This had to be a mistake. /_

Maybe that wasn't the best thing to consider right now. She had to gather herself or the blonde would completely destroy their conversation with sarcasm and snappy remarks.

"Sam!"

She didn't take off this time, but the brunette would have much preferred the sight of Sam's retreating back to the blank coolness with which blue eyes regarded her. "… Hey."

That single word made her brain short circuit and she opened and closed her mouth, unsure of what to say or how to react. It was as though they were two strangers that had just met, not long time best friends, and it was that realization that made hot wet tears well up in her eyes.

Sam's expression lost some of its frostiness. "You okay?"

_Ba-bump. _"Yeah."

The bell rang, the loud sound making both girls jump.

"I should…" (I don't want to go.)

Sam averted her gaze. "Yeah."

"See you." (Stop me.)

With a wordless little wave, the blonde continued on her way, leaving Carly with a bitter taste in her mouth and an ache beneath her breast

…

Juliet was her lab partner today… What were the odds? Carly had held her breath as their teacher read off names from the roster, hoping with all her might that she could avoid the other teen to no avail.

As both girls settled at their lab table, getting pen, composition notebook, and protective goggles out of their school bags, the red-head said quietly, "I hope you're not mad at me."

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"Sam?"

Her stomach flip-flopped. "I'm still not following you."

Juliet arched an eyebrow and, suddenly, the brunette felt very, very exposed—as though the girl knew something she shouldn't have. "I thought… No, it must have been my imagination."

What must have been? Before she could ask, Mr. Burke made a shushing noise and Carly lowered her gaze apologetically to the laminated surface of their lab table.

There wasn't another chance to ask Juliet what she had meant before the bell rang and the moment it did the red-head disappeared.

* * *

"Hey, kiddo! Hope you're hungry because I made a whole mess of—Whoa!" Spencer automatically wrapped his arms around his little sister as she buried her face in, little red flags of concern going off in his head. They doubled their urgency when he felt wet, hot tears soak his skin through his shirt and he nudged the door shut with his foot, gently leading the sobbing teenager over to the sofa and sitting her down. "Talk to me."

A sniffle. "It's over, Spencer."

"What?"

"Freddie and me."

"I'll kill him."

She grabbed his arm, stopping him short as he made for the door. "_I _broke up with _him_."

The young man frowned, puzzled. "So why are you so upset?"

The question brought a fresh wave of tears and it took the girl a moment to gather herself enough to say, "I think I made a big mistake."

"Oh." He cleared his throat. "Do you, um, wanna talk about it?"

"Oh, Spencer…"

There was no way they were going to talk about this—ever. She wasn't even comfortable with _considering_ the fact that she may very well have kind-of sort-of been madly in love with her best friend for the past few years… And now she had realized it far too late.

Sam had Juliet now. Sam didn't need her.

Suddenly, it was difficult to breathe and she struggled to catch her breath, her breast rising and falling rapidly even though it felt as if a giant weight was crushing it.

Sam wouldn't…

Carly couldn't…

"C-Carly?" Spencer yanked at his hair, eyes wide. "Shit… Uh… How many fingers am I holding up? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

She was so stupid.

Slowly, the teenager gathered herself, slowing her breathing and managing a reassuring smile. "I'm fine…" There really was no choice now, was there? She had gone and ruined everything with _both _her best friends. "I'm starved. What did you make for dinner?"

And he, like a good brother, didn't press the matter and hurried off to fix her a plate.


	8. Calmness

**-Calmness-**

"I wish you'd talk to me."

Spencer had scored her a doctor's note, which meant for the next week she was free to cry and eat Ben and Jerry's. Meanwhile, her fans were going absolutely bananas on her webpage and her classmates were blowing up her phone with _'where r u'_s and _'r u ok?'_s, but one person in particular—the only one who mattered, if she was being honest with herself—had neglected to contact her at all. Freddie had been kind enough to visit all of her teachers and deliver her homework to the apartment every day, but that didn't mean she was willing to allow anyone at all past that door.

Heck, she hadn't seen her brother in days and he _lived _here.

"Carly, just tell me what's going on."

Where to begin? She supposed the whole long, dramatic tale began that fateful day on the playground…

_/ "Gimme."_

_As ineloquent as the request was, the intent behind it was clear: the girl would not take 'no' for an answer. Young Carly frowned and turned from the lunch her mother had packed her to glare at—_

_Her gaze softened as dark eyes alighted on a slim blonde girl with hair the same colour as the petals of a sunflower. She had never seen this girl on the playground before, but she was very pretty._

"_I said, 'GIMME.'" Louder this time, more forceful._

_Apparently the blonde thought that the change in volume would surely let her have her way because she gaped when the brunette calmly said, "No."_

_The shove was unexpected, but Carly only gripped her lunchbox to her chest that much tighter as she stumbled and fell to the ground, her bottom sore but her pride intact. _

_She had always had trouble letting go when Sam was involved._

"_What's your name, kid?" her assailant asked at last, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was a child as well._

"_Carly Shay."_

"_Tch." With that disapproving grunt, the blonde plopped onto the grass beside her and crossed her arms over her chest, brow furrowing over bright blue eyes. "I'm Sam."_

"_Sam…" Carly repeated, tasting the name for the first time. The first of many._

"_Yeah. You're alright," Sam decided, nodding with all the wisdom a five year old could manage. "Wanna play on the jungle gym with me?"_

_She supposed she would have said yes to anything so long as she was with Sam. /_

… But now wasn't the time to get all sentimental because she honestly believed she didn't have any tears left to cry.

The boy sighed and there was a gentle '_thunk'_ as, presumably, his forehead hit the door. "I love you, Carly. No matter what."

She bit her lip to stop the words that threatened to leave her because there was nothing adequate enough to sum up the regret-sorrow-anxiety-fear cocktail she was feeling. Heat built up at the back of dark brown eyes and the teenager sighed, burying her face in her pillows as twin trails of hot wetness slid down her cheeks.

So much for that theory.

* * *

Carly's mindset was cool and in control as she boarded the bus that morning and sat down next to Freddie—the eye of the storm that had completely and utterly flipped her world upside down.

He looked like he had seen a ghost (as did the other students who recognized her), but he didn't comment. Instead, he smiled and said, "'Morning," and she was so struck by gratefulness that she threw her arms around him. A true friend knew when to just shut up and act as though nothing had happened.

"N-not that I mind, but why are you hugging me?"

"Thank you, Freddie. For everything."

He patted her awkwardly on the back a few times. "No problem…"

The girl straightened, the weight on her shoulders a little less suffocating, and they continued their bus ride in silence. When the school came into view, her heart raced a bit, uncertain of what awaited her in those now-unfamiliar halls.

A week was a long time to a teenager.

As the door folded open with a squeak, allowing the students to file off in a disorderly scramble of limbs and book bags, Carly took a deep, steadying breath, smiling at Freddie when he gave her an encouraging look. She walked down the narrow aisle, channeling the confidence of her inner web star as she stepped down from the last step and walked the length of the bus loop, into the throng of students that awaited in the—

The courtyard was… empty? She swallowed a sigh of relief.

"Ugh. The bus was late again. I'll see you in class, Carly," Freddie called, hustling in order to make it to class on time.

She headed in the opposite direction, throwing open the doors to her building and squinting at the blast of frigid, air conditioned air that resulted. After a few blinks, she realized that another student stood in the hallway, blue eyes dear-in-the-headlights wide.

Sam. Instantly, relief became rationality erasing panic and she contemplated sprinting home from here.

Her muscles had just tensed up for that first step when the blonde said quietly, "Welcome back."

It wasn't until that very moment that she realized she actually missed the sound of her best—who was she kidding? Of _Sam's _voice. Just Sam. "… Thanks."

Could silence be loud? Because the silence that stretched between them was deafening in its awkwardness.

A door creaked open—

"Sam, we're going to be late!"

—and blue eyes flicked beyond Carly, to the speaker, relief visible in pretty features as she mumbled, "Gotta go."

"Right…"

With a hesitant little wave, Sam hurried off, leaving the brunette with the chilling sense of calm that emanated from the knot of dread that had formed in the pit of her stomach.

Inside, she was screaming.


	9. Bittersweet

**-Bittersweet-**

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Carly nodded. She hadn't been very sure of anything for the past few weeks, so planning a course of action and following it was incredibly comforting. It was also very sad because, well,_ iCarly_ had become a part of her life. It was something she had begun and nurtured, like a child, into the web sensation that it was today and parting with it was nearly as painful as letting go of Sam.

Though, to be honest, there was no way she could completely disengage the death grip her heart had on the crass blonde—no matter how bad things got.

Those bittersweet feelings throbbed beneath her breast as she searched desperately for the inner strength that allowed her to cast away her insecurities and become the Carly that their burgeoning following had come to know and love. The strength that had started the show would also end it.

"I'm ready."

"… In five…"

The familiar countdown set off a fresh wave of pure, unadulterated angst and following closely behind it was panic. Could she really do this?

"…Four…"

Carly steeled herself. She could and she would. There were some changes she needed to make in her life and this was the first of many.

"… Three…"

But if it were up to her… If she could turn back time…

"…Two…"

He pointed to her with two fingers, indicating that they were live, and the teen reeled her thoughts back in, focusing on the here and now.

"Hey guys. I know I haven't done an episode of _iCarly _in a long time, but there's been a lot of…" Her voice cracked and she hid the lapse with a grin. No need to end this show on a sad note. _iCarly _was meant to bring joy to the viewers and it would be best if they remembered their hostess as she had been on the show: happy, carefree. The opposite of how she felt at this very moment. "Real-life stuff. It's complicated."

Her camera man gave her a questioning look and she drew in a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry to say that this will be our last broadcast. So, on behalf of all of us here at _iCarly_, thank you so much for your support and for just being incredible. Without you guys, I don't know how we could have managed to come so far. It's been… So amazing to talk with all you guys and I can't even begin to describe how honored I am that _anyone _would take the time to tune in and laugh with us." She faltered, struggling to contain the emotions that battered her already broken, bleeding heart. "So… Yeah… This is Carly, signing off for the last time."

Freddie lowered the camera, his expression concerned. He opened his mouth, but then seemed to think better of it and he put down his burden instead, crossing the room to his best friend's side.

She let him hug her, but she refused to cry any more.

* * *

Inevitably, there was a flood of hate email, concerned queries, texts, calls, hate, hate, hate, endless questions—

"_What happened to Sam?" _flashed across her screen and, with a tired sigh, Carly powered down her laptop, her hands trembling as she refrained from chucking the device against the far wall. Who needed technology anyway?

Speaking of, her Pear phone lit up for the billionth time that morning alone and she groaned, hesitating before daring to peek at the display. She'd already seen it all—from scathing insults to outright threats of violence. What was the worst this new alert could read?

The answer to that was a caller ID: **Sam :D**

... She really needed to change that.

After further hesitation, the brunette lifted the phone to her ear. She had to clear her throat before she could manage to find her voice.

"… Hello?"

_[… I hear you ended iCarly.]_

Her foolish heart throbbed at the sound of that familiar, unfamiliar voice. "You heard right."

_[How could you…] _She stopped abruptly when her voice trembled, continuing in a much more level tone, _[It wasn't just your decision to make. iCarly was mine, too. It was—]_

Ours. The sentiment hurt and Sam seemed to think so as well because she left the sentence incomplete, that final word hanging silently in the tension between them.

And, suddenly, Carly was indignant. What gave the blonde the right to claim even partial ownership of the show when she had given up on her best friend? It wasn't fair to leave the fate of the project up to whenever—_if _ever—Sam felt like pretending all was well so that they could act silly on camera together, maybe get a few laughs. Pretend like they were okay and that life could continue on, the same as ever.

"Sorry, Sam, but you made a choice and I did too."

The _'click' _that interrupted whatever the other girl had to say in response was oddly satisfying and Carly placed the phone on her desk. She didn't pick it up when the screen lit up, buzzing faintly as it vibrated, choosing instead to swivel around in her computer chair and lean back to stare up at her ceiling.

Her chest hurt, but somehow she felt a little better.


	10. Hesitation

**-Hesitation-**

The past year and a half had been a blur and Carly was on top of the world.

Not literally, mind you, but pretty darn close.

"How do you like it?" Spencer was leaning up against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest as he grinned. He wanted approval and he was certainly going to get it because this loft—airy, spacious, utterly cool—was amazing.

"Spencer, are we really going to live here?"

"Yup."

"In New York."

"Geez, kiddo, why is that so hard to believe? Your big bro's got connections now."

She didn't know howSpencer had been so lucky as to spill coffee all over an art collector and, upon avoiding being verbally assaulted, had somehow sparked a conversation between free spirits that shared a deep interest in individualistic expression, which had led to… This.

New York sprawled below them, its streets congested with bright yellow taxis and an incredible assortment of people decked out in a wide variety of clothing styles. The brother-sister pair were accustomed to living in the big city, but New York was a different story entirely. The sights, the sounds—it was almost overwhelming.

"As you can see, there's plenty of space for you to work," a woman's voice said from the spiral stair-case leading up to the studio. A moment later, a pretty, well-dressed blonde woman in her mid-twenties strode into view, her loafered steps echoing as she approached them. "And Carly here will be able to attend the university down the street once she graduates. She's a brilliant young woman and I'm sure she'll have no trouble getting in."

This was every mistake-maker's dream: a chance to start over. Here in New York, she would be able to rebuild her image from the ground up and broaden her horizons; make new friends and forget old ones.

So why was she hesitating?

"Thanks so much, Lana. You have no idea what this means to us." To his sister, Spencer said, "What do you think, Carly? It's your decision, too."

But then, part of her… Didn't want to forget.

"Take your time," Lana assured the teenager, resting a hand on her shoulder. It felt… Heavy. As though the life-changing decision waited in her palm.

* * *

"Sorry I'm late, Carly, I—" Freddie came skidding to a halt as he rounded the corner. "Whoa, what's with all the boxes?"

"They're the reason I called you here, actually." She cleared her throat. "We're, um, moving." He gaped and she fidgeted. "Hey, don't look at me like that. Remember that lady I told you about—Lana?"

Before long, he was helping her pack her life away into fragile brown cardboard containers and the two chattered aimlessly about various objects and the memories they had been part of.

"What about this?" the boy asked, holding up the figure of a colourful caped crusader.

He winced when his best friend lunged towards him, grabbing the figurine from him and cradling it protectively to her chest. This was…

/ _"I think you've had too much cotton candy," Carly laughed, fair skin flushing as the lovely blonde leaned heavily on her. _

"_I think I'm gonna ralph."_

"_Please aim your face _that _way."_

"_Yeah, yeah…" She straightened suddenly, her eyes narrowing determinedly. "Hey, that's one of those water gun races."_

_Sure enough, the barstools were filled with young men trying to win a prize for their sweethearts, the largest of which was an adorable plush kitten. When the brunette voiced her thoughts on how soft and fluffy it looked, Sam suddenly recovered from her sugar crash._

"_I've got this."_

_The boys hooted and hollered as she joined their midst, grinning confidently, and the carny raised his hand, shouting out the rules of the game: shoot fast, shoot accurately, win cute things._

_Then, the game began._

_It was close, but…_

"_Sorry… Looks like I was second." This figure was smaller and interesting to look at, but the abashed expression on Sam's face was what held Carly's expression. So cute. "This is pretty cool, though, right?"_

_She threw her arms around the blonde, happiness warming her chest. Sam had done this for her—to make _her_ happy. So she wasn't exaggerating when she whispered, "It's perfect."_ /

Freddie frowned slightly at her unfocused expression. "Carly?"

"… I think we've made enough progress today."

"O-okay."

Once she had shown the boy out, Carly returned to her room, stiffening when the goofy-looking hero caught her gaze. She hesitated for a beat before dropping it into a box.

Might as well hold onto it.


	11. Resolved

**-Resolved-**

Moving is difficult, but _moving on_ is even more so.

Carly sighed, hefting one last box into the back of the U-Haul outside of the apartment, and stepping back to survey her work, her hands on her hips.

She still couldn't believe this was happening. Most of their stuff had already been moved and these were just a few odds and ends that needed to be tied up.

"You'll come back and visit… Right?"

Freddie had tears in his eyes, but he didn't let them fall. He had been her rock through all of this and she sincerely wished they had worked out because he deserved to be happy.

Too bad her heart had already belonged to someone else.

She threw her arms around him, heat pushing at the back of her eyes when he returned the embrace, hugging her tightly. When they separated, they didn't meet gazes for fear that that would start the waterworks.

"Ah… Drive safe."

"We will."

"I miss you already."

She closed her eyes, clenching her jaw to ground herself. This wasn't goodbye, it was a new beginning. He was a true friend and true friends always found their way back to one another.

"See ya, Freddie."

* * *

"Hey, Carly! You wanna join us for pizza?"

"I can't, guys. I've got to study for Professor Chang's exam tomorrow. Have a slice for me."

"Can do," the boy laughed, waving and joining a crowd of familiar faces across the hall.

Carly continued on her way to the peace and quiet of the library, where she sat at a desk near the rear of the room, pulling out a packet of practice problems, a pencil, and a calculator.

Her phone buzzed, but she didn't look up, concentrating fiercely on the complex mass of numbers before her. When it went off for the third or fourth time, she spared it an irritated glance, retrieving it from the laminated surface of the desk and checking the

_[Anna 2:09pm: Would you mind covering my shift later? I'd owe you big time.]_

She typed in her affirmative response and returned to her studies.

**That Night…**

"Spencer, I'm going to be home late."

_[Is everything okay?]_

"Yeah. I'm closing tonight, though, and we've got a big party." Her coworker, a middle- aged man with handsome features and graying temples, gestured impatiently towards the floor and she added quickly, "Gotta go. Love you. Bye."

She hurried over to the man, her half apron swinging with each step. "Sorry, that was my brother."

"Yeah, yeah. Twenty one needs dessert and thirty is ready for their bill."

"I've got it, Greg."

"I'll bus, nineteen. Good work out there, kid."

Carly nodded, straightening her tie and approaching the table with her most charming of smiles. "Good evening. Does anyone have room for dessert?"

"Yes, how is your tiramisu?" a young woman asked.

She turned to address the speaker, only to move her mouth wordlessly because, upon first glance, the blonde's features were startlingly familiar. It took her a moment to realize that the diner's eyes were hazel, not blue, and her nose was just a bit too big, but still…

"Miss?"

The brunette shook her head to clear it, fixing a smile firmly in place. "Sorry. The tiramisu is great, but the creme brulee is to die for."

"I'll have that, then."

* * *

It was after eleven by the time Carly got home and she was dead on her feet when she fell into bed, still wrapped in a damp towel from her recent shower.

Her eyelids fluttered shut, but she struggled to keep them open as she forced herself into a seated position. After an internal debate about whether sleeping now was worth waking up wet and cold and completely disoriented, she groaned and got to her feet, stumbling over to her dresser and pulling out a T-shirt and a pair of underwear.

After slipping them on and brushing her teeth, she climbed back into her bed, tiredness weighing down her limbs so that it felt as though she was sinking into it plush embrace. Despite her body's inactivity, her mind chose this moment to operate at full capacity, drawing up thoughts and considerations that she had denied it earlier, when she had the strength.

Like that girl she had seen earlier…

_/ Sam was crossing the street when Spencer drove the U-Haul through downtown, headed for the city limits. As luck would have it, she looked up at the truck, blue eyes widening as she registered just who was sitting in the passenger seat._

_She hadn't said a word to the blonde about moving because she honestly didn't think Sam would care._

_Their gazes met, lingering for just a moment too long, but the brunette broke the connection when the tightness in her chest made it difficult for her to breath._

"_You okay, kiddo?"_

"_Fine," she responded, setting her sights on the familiar scenery of her home for what would be the last time in a while. _

_Everything would be fine. /_

Life went on.


	12. Relief

**-Relief-**

**Six Months Later…**

_[Hey…]_

_Ba-dump_. "Hey…"

She didn't know what had possessed her to pick up the phone, but she had. Now, hearing the voice of her ex best friend for the first time in about eight months, she was torn between happiness and the anxiety of not knowing what to expect.

Would they fight? Their last interaction hadn't exactly been the most positive of chats…

What did Sam want? Last Carly had checked, the girl's life was going great. She had gotten into a good school and was majoring in English—presumably to teach little brats. Freddie, who was majoring in film, kept her updated on the latest, so she also knew that the blonde and Juliet were no more.

She was a horrible person for feeling a twinge of satisfaction at that.

So what? Why the call? It seemed rude to ask, but the lull following their exchange of greetings was getting awkward.

_[How's New York?]_

"Great. There are so many interesting people here and the pizza is the best. You'd love it. I've got job in a posh restaurant, a cat named Felix, and my classes are going really well. Spencer is all over the art galleries and coffee shops with Lana all day and I'm starting to think he likes her."

It was surprisingly easy to just… talk. As though these past two years hadn't happened and they were still friends—_best _friends—living in the same town, going to the same school, and spending the majority of their free time together.

It was both frightening and comforting , because that meant she needed Sam… But also that Sam needed _her._

_[That's great. Things are the same old, same old here. Mom's still a pain, school's still a pain, and Freddie hooked up with some chick. She's cute, but I dunno... She'd better be nice to him.]_

This was the Sam she remembered: blasé, gruff, protective of her friends.

"Hey, Sam?"

_[Yeah?]_

"Don't ever change."

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Sam?"

A soft sound—was the blonde… crying? Before Carly could ask, the other girl said softly, _[I miss you, Carls.]_

Her heart skipped a beat and she actually pinched her skin between her thumb and forefinger, convinced that she was dreaming. When the action did in fact hurt, she released the breath she didn't realize she had been holding, the tension that she had been carrying since seeing that familiar number—she just couldn't make herself forget—on her phone's display melting away completely.

True friends always found their way back to each other.

The muscle throbbed, the healing scars sealing up further at those four simple words and prompting her to admit, equally as quietly, "I miss you, too."

_[… Really?] _She wasn't used to the vulnerability in that hesitant question. There was surprise and, above all, elation there as well.

"Really. You should come visit sometime."

"I'd like that."

This was what any mistake-maker could ever want: a chance to start over. This time, she wouldn't miss her chance.

**-End-**

Thanks for reading, guys! It was fun, but this is as far as I'm taking the girls. Until next time :3


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